a cure for the common block

Sanctuary

Over the weeks Belinda’s ordering developed into small talk, but she only ever imagined about the full tattoo on the young man’s arm, never having the courage to inquire. One Monday she found herself in the cafe and – seeing she and Peter the barista were the only two there – realized it was a holiday and she didn’t actually have to be at work. He spoke first, asking if she wanted the usual, but she opted instead for one of their more flavorful offerings. Peter wasn’t wearing short sleeves that day, but she felt comfortable to ask him about his tattoo. He playfully brushed it off as nothing important and changed the subject to the music playing, which he also brushed off, calling it “Rubbish”. She smiled, but awkwardness lurked behind the rest of their otherwise pleasant conversation. Belinda felt so embarrassed that she drove two miles out of her way to another coffee shop for the next two weeks.